Lucy
by NoseyHeiffer
Summary: Someone special from Rumplestiltskin's past returns. Can he see the love that is in front of him this time? This is NOT a "Mary Sue" story.
1. Chapter 1

I do NOT own Once Upon A Time. If I did, I wouldn't have tried to sink ship Rumbelle last night...

**CHAPTER 1**

**Spring - A Small Farm Near the Enchanted Forest**

"Milah! You can't marry him," quarreled Gerta, tossing her glossy golden braids behind her. Her brilliant blue eyes sparkled like sunshine on ice. "He's too short, too ugly, and too old for you," she added with an angry flounce as she threw herself on the bed that the three sisters shared in the loft above their father's one room cottage.

The youngest sister, Lucy, sat down next to her identical twin, Gerta. She pushed her flyaway elflocks out of her bottomless cerulean eyes. "He's a good man, Gerta!" she admonished her sister. "Didn't he consent to take the two of us into his home when father arranged your marriage?"

"Yes, yes," Gerta conceded with a grumble, "but -"

"But," Lucy agreed, "you're right. Milah, can't marry him because she doesn't love him."

Milah twisted her dark brown tresses up and pinned them in a queenly crown upon her head. Then she turned her countenance from side to side, admiring her lovely reflection. Her shadowy eyes flashed only momentarily away from the vision of herself in the dim mirror, and she laughed cynically at her younger sibling. "Oh, Lucy, you're such a child. Love has nothing to do with marriage. Ask Gerta; she knows." She favored the elder twin with an impish wink. "Old Rump may be nearly thirty and ugly, but he's a superb spinner. With such a high value on his work, he is making a fair sum of money, now."

She held out her hand and showed off the authentic coral ring and matching necklace that her bridegroom had given her. "With me pushing him, his trade will increase. Soon, I'll be selling old Rump's threads and yarn to the nobility. Then we'll make much more wealth," she exclaimed. "Can you imagine what rich and gorgeous fabrics I will be wearing this time next year?"

Gerta's dark blue eyes glittered in avaricious understanding. "And, if you marry him, you'll rise into the merchant class." She enthusiastically hopped from the bed to help her elder sister into the ivory wedding gown. "Milah, do you think he has an acquaintance who needs a wife? I don't want to be trapped with a farmer like father. I want to rise above the peasant class, too, like you."

Smiling at exquisite reflection, Milah twirled before the mirror. "I'm sure I can talk old Rump into finding a suitable husband for you both," she told her younger siblings magnanimously. Suddenly sobered by thoughts of the imminent events to come, she roughly gripped Gerta by the shoulders. "But you must assist me in getting through this wedding. You're right. He is ugly and short, but I can stomach that for a chance at a better life." A sudden wicked grin pulled up the corner of her red lips. "At least until I can do better."

Lucy, the youngest of the three, could stand such talk no longer. She bound from the bed to confront her older sisters. "No!" she shouted insistently. "You're both so wrong, so very, very wrong. True love is vital. Neither money nor status can make you happy."

Gerta flapped a dismissive hand at her twin. "Oh, don't mind her," she said told Milah with a sly grin. "Lucy will come around in time. She's just distressed because she fancies herself in love with old Rump."

Lucy's face flamed a vibrant shade of scarlet, and she pressed her hands to her cheeks. "Oh, Gerta, you promised," she whispered. "You promised not to tell."

"Well, if you wish, Lucy, you can have him when I'm done, sister," Milah said with false sweetness. And, as Lucy fled the room, Milah and Gerta burst into great peals of laughter.

**Storybrooke, Maine Granny's Dinner**

Attorney Linda Cucurbita was sitting in her usual booth at Granny's. She never simply ate lunch, or any meal really. She only picked at her food while she sorted through various papers. As public defender, she had handled many cases - won some, lost some - but none of them ever bothered her like this one. And she didn't know why.

A local businessman, Mr. Gold, was in jail for the kidnapping and subsequent assault and battery of Moe French. There was no denying the facts of the case. Gold, the pawnbroker, had gotten the better of French, the town florist. In retaliation, French had broken into Gold's home and stolen several valuable items. Gold, then, apparently had kidnapped French and severely beaten him. French was now at Storybrooke General Hospital while Gold sat in the Storybrooke jail.

Reading the facts was depressing. Curcubita snorted. She couldn't decide if the two of them were behaving more like warring gangsters or little boys on the playground in a slugfest. If it were just French, she'd suppose that it was a simple case of the big bully on the playground getting his comeuppance when one of the smaller boys finally stood up to him. However, the other party of Mr. Gold, and he was a very private man of power in town. In fact, she strongly suspected that he owned the town and merely allowed Mayor Mills to pretend to run it for him.

Despite his impressive wealth, no one wanted to take on his case. Not only did everyone fear disappointing the man, but also they could see no way of winning the case. Despite his handicap, Gold had severely beaten French, a much larger man. There was simply no denying the facts, and since no other litigator in town wished to take on a no-win case, it fell to her as the public defender.

No one in town seemed to actually like the man; in fact, most of the citizens of Storybrooke were petrified to death of him. And she wasn't sure why. Yes, he was a ruthless businessman, and, yes, he was hard and unsympathetic. But he had never before actually, physically harmed anyone - for no good reason - that she knew of.

Linda was Storybrooke's public defender, and she was very good at her job. Ordinarily she would have had no trouble handling any case, but she had a disturbing feeling about this case. She sighed because she knew this to be only a partial truth. No, she had to be honest with herself. She didn't simply have odd feelings about the case itself. She was sure that with such circumstantial evidence she could get the charges reduced, earning her client little more than a fine, which would be of little consequence to him. The problem was that she had odd feeling about Mr. Gold. She shuffled more papers around on the table and snorted at her own cowardice. Ok, that was another lie. She didn't have 'odd' feelings about him - just feelings, feelings_ for _him. And those feeling felt like _love_, TRUE LOVE, which didn't make any sense at all because she had never spent any time with the man. In fact, she had no more than a passing acquaintance with him, not that she wouldn't have liked more.

Every time she saw him in passing, she was plagued during the night with wave upon wave of disturbing dreams. Not nightmares, exactly, they were angst filled visions, and she always, always woke with her heart hammering in her chest, her eyes full of tears. There was _something _inside her mind, just out of reach, something cryptic about the enigmatic Mr. Gold. But for the life of her, she couldn't decipher it. Sometimes she would concentrate so hard on unraveling this mystery that she gave herself a skull-busting migraine, which left her with a vague impression of her teenage self crushing on the older man. This quasi sort of half-dream, half-memory had been battering her thoughts with more ferocity lately.

And now she was forced to defend him. She only hoped she could defend her heart as well.


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own Once Upon A Time.

**CHAPTER 2**

**Storybrooke, Maine Granny's Dinner**

Shaking her head to clear the pointless daydream, Linda only knew that she had to take his case. She was the public defender after all. Never mind that Gold had more than enough money to buy the best lawyer on the East Coast. Never mind that he himself held a law degree. Never mind that she could stop herself from loving him. Impatiently she shoved several escaped blonde elflocks back into her habitual tight bun just as she shoved her feelings back down into her heart in an equally tight bunch. All she knew at this moment was that she had a job to do.

"Everything alright?" asked Ruby as she checked her tea glass. "You didn't eat anything."

"No, I mean, yes, the food was wonderful as usual," Linda replied lightly. "I'm just going over a new case. Something about it keeps puzzling me." Linda smiled awkwardly at Ruby. "Hey, can I get that to go?" She pointed to the tea and then began sorting the papers into her briefcase. "And, can I get a plate to go? An Irish stew with a couple of thick slices of Granny's fresh baked bread?"

Ruby nodded. "Sure, I'll get it ready."

Shrugging into her butter-yellow coat, Linda gathered her briefcase in one hand and the take-out bag in the other. Although it was mid-February in Maine, the weather held clear and sunny, so she decided to walk the two blocks to the sheriff's office.

**Winter - A Small Town near the Enchanted Forest - One Year Later**

Weak afternoon winter sunlight streamed through the window of the spinner's snug little cottage. Lucy stood near the hearth of her sister's home, cooking the family's evening meal. She had taken over all of the homemaking chores when she and Gerta came to live with Milah and Rumplestiltskin. Milah ran her husband's spinning business, which was thriving. Between the three of them, life was good, very good. If only Gerta could be counted on; even now, they did not know where their sister was.

Her elder sister, Milah, scurried about organizing Gerta's things on the room's corner bed that the twins shared. She was packing them into a new trunk that Rumplestiltskin had purchased just yesterday. Gerta should have been doing this chore, but the brassy young woman had been missing for nearly a month now.

A frosty breeze swept through the room, causing the fire to gutter in the hearth, as the door quickly opened and shut. The two sisters, squealing in protest, turned to see the truant Gerta rushing inside. Icy blue eyes sparkling with devilment, Gerta, stated the obvious, "I told you I'd be back before the first snow."

"And none too soon," Milah rebuked her belated sister. Then she sighed in relief. Rushing forward, she clasped her sister's wind chapped hands, drew Gerta towards the fire, and removed her lemony cloak. She grinned impishly back at her sister. "For a time, I thought I'd have to give your husband to Lucy."

"A husband? For me? Oh, who is he? Tell me about him? Is he rich? Handsome?" Gerta asked breathlessly.

"He's handsome, of course, and brave," she told her sister in a rush of words. "Juan is a soldier of fortune and a minor nobleman in his home land. He will take you with him on grand adventures throughout the kingdom. Maybe you'll even see royalty," she paused for breath.

Gerta squealed in delight. "Truly, Milah? A titled gentleman! Is he so grand?"

"I wish I'd met him first. What I wouldn't give for a man like him." Grinning, then, she told Gerta, "And we have to hurry because he's due to return tomorrow morning. Your wedding is set for noon."

"Noon? Tomorrow? Why so soon? I'll never be ready in time!"

Sparing a fleeting look at Lucy, who was setting the table for the evening meal, Milah replied, "Well, old Rump made a deal with him nearly a month ago. You'll be taking a large dowry in coins with you, and Juan needs the funds to prop up his poor homeland estates," she told her truant sister. "The deal was struck without you, but we held him off for as long as we could because you've been away on one of your 'adventures' in the forest." Milah sniffed with annoyance. "I feared you would miss your lucky chance, and we'd have to send Lucy in your stead."

A perturbed and worried frown creasing her forehead, Lucy dared ask, "Where were you, Gerta?"

Gerta's smile instantly faded. "Never you mind where I was," she retorted enigmatically. "I'm back now and won't miss my chance. I can promise you that."

Milah raised a dark eyebrow on that comment. "Well, whatever you've been up to, you'd best keep it secret, and in future be more circumspect, sister," she warned. "The wedding is tomorrow morning. You don't want to spoil it. We'd best eat now so we can get things ready."

The temperature dropped dramatically with when the setting of the sun. This time when the cottage door open, an icy winter wind blew a few stray snowflakes through the small house, causing shrieks from the three sisters. Just as quickly, their cries and the blustering wind were cut off as the door slammed shut.

"I'm sorry I'm late, my girls," a contented Rumplestiltskin told them, as he hung his cloak on a peg by the door. "There were late customers, and I couldn't turn down their prices." His eyes widened in happiness when he saw the returned Gerta. "You're home, Gerta. I'm glad for we were worried." He smiled lovingly, watching his beautiful wife as she helped Gerta pack her belongings. He counted himself a very lucky man. "I see you're readying yourselves for the morning. That's good, but come now let's eat."

"You were late, Rump," Milah answered shortly. "Gerta and I have already eaten. You go ahead."

A soft voice intruded. "Sit, Rumple, and eat," Lucy told him gently. "The stew is warm, and the bread is fresh." Setting a wooden bowl in front of him, she quickly filled a mug with cold milk and slathered a thick slice of bread with butter for him. Then, she sat across from him with her own small bowl and mug.

He looked up and smiled at his youngest sister-in-law, noting her slight frown. "Don't fret yourself, dear," he told her. "We'll find you a rich, young husband of your own. I promise."

A wavering smile trembled across her pink rosebud mouth, and her clear, blue eyes watered. "I only want one man, Rumplestiltskin. He's the man I love," she whispered wondering if he could decipher her cryptic message. "I want to take care of his home and have his child. That is more than enough for me."

Rumplestiltskin smiled, showing dimples. "A man would be blessed beyond his wildest dreams to have a woman like you. I don't know what we would do without you, Lucy."

Her voice tremulous, she told him, "Eat, Rumple." And she turned her face to her stew.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

**Storybrooke, Maine The Jail**

"Your attorney's here," Sheriff Swan called to her lone prisoner. Swan grabbed the keys from her desk and moved to open the cell door. "Remember your promise, Gold?" she asked him. He nodded. "That go for her too?" she jerked her thumb at the woman who was busy setting down a large take-out bag and briefcase on the table.

"Yes," he agreed, "but I can represent myself." Nevertheless, he stood up and approached the cell's door, cradling something between his hands. His Dolce and Gabbana coat and tie lay crumpled and abandoned on the cot.

Setting the keys back on her desk, Emma Swan added aloud, "I'm going to grab some lunch. I'll be back in an hour. I'm trusting you both."

Without his cane, Gold limped heavily to the table and sat down. His attorney removed her yellow coat and laid it carefully across the back of her chair. When she opened the bag, his nose twitched in anticipation of the aroma of stew, and his stomach growled in appreciation. Reluctantly, he cautiously set the chipped cup on the table and eased himself down onto one of the chairs.

His attorney smiled at his growling belly. "You've brought an appetite. I've brought lunch." She set a Styrofoam bowl in front of him. She unwrapped the fragrant slices of bread and set out two tall glasses of tea. Taking one slice of bread for herself, she sat across from him and began pulling papers from her briefcase.

Gold closed his eyes in pleasure with the first warm spoonful of the rich, hearty stew. Then his eyes jerked open and looked intently at the woman again. A flood of memories inundated his mind, and he was nearly moved to tears as he remembered her true self. "Lucy?" The involuntary whisper left his lips.

"Hmm, no, but you're close," she told him. She gave him her professional smile. "I'm sorry. I should have introduced myself. I'm the public defender, Linda Cucurbita." She reached a hand across the table to shake his. "So, tell me, Mr. Gold, why did you try to kill Moe French?"

Stifling an ironic laugh, Gold replied, "So that's what I'm charged with? Attempted murder?"

"Well, that's what French's lawyer is pushing," she answered, "but I think I could get him to lessen the charges." Sitting this close to him, she could feel her heart thumping irrationally in her breast, so she took a deep breath. "First, I want to know why you did it." She fixed a penetrating eye on him.

Gold looked her straight in the eye. "He broke into my home and stole my property."

"Which you got back," she countered. _I thought as much. He's going to parse every sentence to make sure he doesn't tell a lie; he might be deceitful, never telling the whole truth, but he isn't going to tell an outright lie. _ "So why, then, did you kidnap and beat him?"

"Most of it," he retorted. "I got most of my property back. The most important item was still missing." His eyes betrayed his coveted secret when he glanced down at the cup. The involuntary action made no mistaking that the ratty little cup was a greatly cherished possession. Surprising, she saw pure love in his gaze.

"So, you beat him senseless over a chipped cup?" She sat back up in her chair. "I don't believe that. There's more to the story than that." Suddenly, she reached across the table for the cup. Although she was inspecting it carefully, she didn't miss his flinch or the tightening of his mouth. He didn't like her touching that cup. Oh, no, not one little bit. "What's so special about this cup?" she asked.

Anxiety was drawn tightly across his face, but he had his emotions under control now and didn't show his hand. He simply refused to answer, and he waited as patiently as possible until the attorney put the cup back down on the table. As soon as she did, he reached for it, their fingers touching in his haste. When he lifted his gaze from the cup, he saw her shrewd blue eyes assessing him.

"Who was she?" she asked softly.

**Winter - A Small Town near the Enchanted Forest **

The evening meal finished, Milah and Gerta still fussing with the packing, and Rumple's spinning wheel whirred softly, a constant and gentle rhythm as Lucy read aloud to them from a book of tales. When again the door blew open, a bitter, icy wind and thicker flakes rushed inward along with two strangers. Rumple stood from his spinning wheel and spoke a welcome to the newcomers, who stood in the doorway of his home as if they owned the place.

Rumple made a half-bow to his late visitors. "Can I be of service?" he asked, courteously, expecting late customers at best and early wedding guests at worse. Once the identity of his evening caller was known, he winced with trepidation. Clearing his throat and hoping his voice didn't betray the sudden fear as his heart leapt into his throat, he timidly asked, "Sheriff Piperson, is there a problem?"

Tom Piperson's booming voice rang out strongly. "I'd say there is, Rump." Sheriff Piperson was an honest man, and he spoke plainly. He motioned to the other man. "Mr. Behr here has sworn out a complaint against your sister-in-law."

Milah moved swiftly and wrapped her arms around Gerta's shoulder.

"And, and what, uh, is his complaint?" Rumple asked, his voice trembled with terror.

"Simple theft," Sheriff Piperson answered. "I've been investigating a series of burglary in the new forest community. Mr. Behr claims to have seen your sister-in-law in his home. When he, his wife, and son returned home last night, she was found asleep in their home," Sheriff Piperson answered. "Before they could take hold of her, she fled through the window. He identified her by her golden braids and yellow cloak, which," he pointed to Gerta's cloak by the door, "I see there."

Rumplestiltskin did not know what to do. The marriage contract had been signed, and it could not be broken. The young lord was insistent, demanding his dowry if not his bride. He could not send Lucy to this man in Gerta's place as both Milah and Juan had demanded last week when they fixed the wedding date. Neither groom nor Milah cared which twin was the bride as long as Juan got his gold and Milah got Rumple's military commission. Gerta would have to pay for her crimes, and she would by marrying to the foreign man. A daring plan began to form in his mind. "But he didn't see her face?" asked Rumple.

"What do you mean, Spinner?" shouted the bear of a man. "Are you calling me a liar?" He took an angry step towards Rumple, his hands balled into fists. "We saw her with our own eyes!"

"No, no, I wouldn't call you a liar. I'm sure you saw someone, yes," Rumple agreed quietly, "but which one?" Pointing to Gerta and Lucy, he bowed slightly to the large, angry man.

The twins, alike as two peas in a pod, moved together. There was no way to tell them apart.


	4. Chapter 4

Again, I do not own Once Upon a Time -

Chapter 4

The stunned man turned and stared with his mouth hanging open.

"Well, Behr? Which is it?" Sheriff Piperson asked with ill-concealed impatience. When Behr couldn't answer, the sheriff swore under his breath. The two of them quietly attempted to sort out the problem.

Rumple swiftly moved to his wife and sisters-in-law. "Gerta," he hissed in a whisper, "it was you, wasn't it?" But Gerta would not answer.

With a jerk of her chin, Milah hissed with anger, "That great clown can't prove which it was. Gerta's wedding is tomorrow at noon. Say nothing."

Rumple clenched his teeth and looked up at his taller wife. "But, Milah, dear," he told her softly, "if she is guilty, we dare not defend her. Our neighbors will believe we condoned her actions, and they will no longer buy my wares no matter how fine my work."

"No, Rump!" she ordered in a hushed voice. "Gerta marries Don Juan tomorrow. As for your spinning, didn't Juan offer you a place in the army with him?" Seeing the hesitant look in his puppy dog eyes, she pressed him. "Think about it, Rump. This is your chance to be more than a mere spinner. You'll be getting regular military pay, and we can afford to move to a bigger house," she urged him. She ran her soft hands through his fine, flyaway hair. "And maybe we'll soon be needing another room for a babe," she hinted. "With luck you may even be promoted on the field of battle. And wouldn't we be a fine pair then? Sir Rump and Lady Milah? I'd be so proud of you, Rump."

Rumple replied earnestly, "I'd like nothing better than to make you proud, Milah, but - "

"It seems, Mr. Behr, isn't sure which girl it was, Rump," admitted the Sheriff. He shot an angry look at the larger man. "At any rate, we're sure it was one of them." He pointed between the two sisters. "So, I'll take one into custody. At this time of night and with it beginning to snow, I don't care which. Pick one, Rump, and we'll be going."

A horrified Rumplestiltskin turned to face his three women folk. He whispered fiercely, "Milah, I can't choose like this. We all know it's Gerta who -"

"No mind," Lucy stated quietly. "I'll go in Gerta's place."

All three answered together - "You'd do that for me?" "No, Gerta, you can't!" "Gerta, so brave."

Gerta mastered her quivering voice, but was she was still shaking with fear. "No, listen to me. If I go, then Gerta can marry the Don. Rumple can join the army, and Milah will be happy." She faltered, then regained her voice and spoke loudly, addressing herself to Sheriff Piperson. "If I admit that I am the thief, what will my punishment be?"

Tom Piperson was a fair man, and he was also a fair judge of character. He knew Lucy was not the thief, but he had no way to prove it. Unfortunately, the penalty for thievery, especially when confessed, could not be altered. "The Duke will have you auctioned as an indentured servant, and you will serve between five and ten years, depending on your master. At the end of that time, you'll be freed."

Swallowing hard again, Lucy nodded at the unexpected fairness of the sentence. Before her frail courage could fail her, she donned her sister's yellow cloak and hugged her small family goodbye.

"I promise you, Lucy," Rumple whispered before Tom Piperson took her away, "when you are freed, I will find you a husband you can love."

**STORYBROOKE The Sheriff's Office**

Mr. Gold stared blankly at his attorney. There was a long, tense moment of silence. He set the cup down elaborately casually and picked up his spoon. The tension mounted as the stillness dragged on, broken only by the soft scrap of his spoon against the Styrofoam bowl.

When he finished the stew and bread, Mr. Gold leaned back against the back of his chair. He tilted his head to the right and eyed her critically. Finally, he broke his verbal fast. "Well, Miss Cucurbita, I thank you for the food, and I thank you for your offer to defend me, but it is entirely unnecessary."

She didn't buy his overly casual attitude. "I think it is," she told him. "There isn't another lawyer in town who'll take your case." She, too, sat back against her chair and crossed her legs as if she had all day. "Everyone else is terrified of you," she smiled. She could play the game, too. "Although why they are," she pitched her voice low, "I wouldn't know. You're hardly an intimidating fellow."

He grinned like a shark, but let her last comment slide. Oh, he did enjoy playing with her. "I propose," he told her as he folded his napkin and place it on the table, "to represent myself."

She gave a most unladylike snort of laughter. "Hardly, Mr. Gold," she told him between laughs. "Your degree is in contract law not criminal law, and you know what they say. 'The lawyer who tries to defend himself has a fool for a client' ."

"Nevertheless, I'll handle my own affairs," he told her harshly. He didn't like her laughing at his expense.

"The magic word," she muttered to herself. The mystery of the chipped cup seemed to resolve itself.

A stunned Gold, stammered, "I - I - I beg your pardon? Did you say 'the magic word'?"

"An affair," she restated. "Your word, not mine. A Freudian slip if ever I heard one." Gesturing towards the cup, she continued, "There was an affair, wasn't there? Was she his wife or yours?"

"I don't know what you mean," Mr. Gold answered brusquely and pushed back from the table. "I'd like you to leave now."

But the lady lawyer didn't budge. "Your wife, then," she continued relentlessly. "Moe French somehow took her away from you, didn't he?" When he didn't reply, she forged ahead. "She must have been a fool to choose him over you."

A warning growl crept up from his throat. "Be careful where you tread, dearie."

"Yes, it's starting to make sense now," she spoke softly. "It explains why you're obsessed with that broken cup, and it explains why you're alone." She tapped the table with her fingers. "Some sort of love triangle when the two of you were younger? You loved her beyond reason, didn't you?"


	5. Chapter 5

I do not own Once Upon A Time. Reviews are welcome and humbly requested.

**CHAPTER 5**

**Spring - Seven years later in a small town in the Enchanted Forest**

In the end it was seven years Lucy served for her sister's crime. Finally her time serving the Duke's chief magistrate was done. Because she could read and write, the court's highest officer had purchased her time and rescued her from the Duke's dungeons. She had kept house for him as well as assisted him in his royal duties. But now, at last she was able to return to the home she shared with Milah and Rumplestiltskin. She knew she would never have a real home of her own because the only man she'd ever loved was her sister's husband. And if she was fated to eternal unrequited love at least she could be close to the object of her love.

Soon she was standing on his doorstep. Although she was older now, nearly twenty- four, she still felt nervous about seeing him. He was, after all, Milah's husband. _Milah be hanged!_ she thought rebelliously. Squaring her narrow shoulders, she knocked twice on the door.

A small boy with a rectangular face and an unruly mop of brown hair opened the door and peered out at her. His small thumb was wedged firmly in his mouth. The boy could be no more than six, seven at the most.

Tilting her head to the side, Lucy stared curiously at the small boy. Then she smiled. "You're his son," she stated simply. "You must be, for you are his very spirit and image." Kneeling, she reached for his shoulders. "I'm your aunt Lucy."

"Bae, haven't I told you not to talk to strangers?" Rumple hobbled quickly towards the stranger who held his child. Although lame and leaning heavily on his crutch, the spinner was surprising strong as he pushed her away from his child. But he froze in mid motion, his body thrust between his child and this woman, his right arm grasping the crutch while the fingers of his left hand bit into her arm. "Lucy?" he croaked in disbelief. "Or is it Gerta?"

"Lucy," she told him as she stood and pulled him into a fierce embrace. She held him as long as she dared, relishing in the feel of his solid warmth. Finally, she pulled back and cleared his throat of the tears that threatened to lodge there. "But who is this?" She smiled down at the tiny thumb sucker.

Rumplestiltskin's smile widened. He squared his shoulders and held himself taller. "That," he told her with great joy as he gently removed the thumb, "that is my son, Baelfire."

"That's a good name," she told him solemnly. "A strong name. I know you and Milah must be proud."

"Milah is," he faltered, looking down at the boy.

"Mumma's dead," the solemn eyed little boy told her.

At these words, her smile weakened, and her hands dropped to her side. "Oh, my poor Rumple," she whispered as tears flowed. "You loved her so." Taking a ragged breath, she pushed back her sorrow and added, "What can I do to help?"

Later that night after the evening meal was finished and the boy put to bed, Lucy took Rumple by the hand and sat down next to him.

"Now," she spoke tenderly, "tell me what happened? Did Milah die in childbirth?"

He looked into her eyes with his thimbleful of courage. "No, Milah's not really dead. She, she - " he whispered, but his jaw began to tremble and grief stopped his words.

She took his face between her hands and lifted until his tear-filled eyes met her own. When his tears spilled over, she gingerly wiped them away. "My sister, Milah?" she asked kindly.

Heaving a shuddering sigh, he said, "She was kidnapped by a pirate. She had taken to carousing in taverns with sailors. Captain Jones took her away." When Lucy's frame stiffened and she clenched her jaw, Rumple feared she blamed him. He added with desperation, "I begged him to leave her for the boy's sake. He offered to duel me for her, and I - I - " He shook his head and lowered it in defeat as the sobs came, wracking his thin frame.

Lucy simply pulled him to her and rocked him gently, letting him cry out his pain. Murmuring soft nonsensical phrases, she smoothed his hair until he mastered his pain.

"I'm sorry, Lucy. It's all my fault. I wasn't strong enough - "

"Shh, Rumple, whatever happened was most assuredly not your fault. I knew my sister well. It's more likely she went with him of her own free will than -"

"Don't!" he told her. His voice vibrated with deep hurt. "Don't say such," he begged. "Even if it should be true, you shouldn't say it. She," he took her hands from his face and held them in his own, close to his heart. "She never loved me, you see," he whispered raggedly. "I suppose I knew it all along, but your da said she agreed to marry me. I knew it was wrong. She was so lovely, so young, and I was too old and a wee ugly thing, and - "

Lucy's face clouded, and she interrupted him. "That's a lie, Rumplestiltskin," she hissed at him, her face going red with anger. "You are not a wee, ugly thing! Milah was beautiful but only on the outside. She was ugly on the inside where it counted. She married you for your ability to make money. That's why she pushed you to join the army. She wanted to travel to grand places, mix with grand people! She was a fool and didn't deserve you!"

Rumplestiltskin stared at her. "Lucy, well I know why Milah agreed to marry me. But you're wrong. It was I who didn't deserve her. I am a coward, who dishonored my country, my family, and myself. If she left of her own accord, it was because I drove her to it." He bowed his head, looking at his lame leg. "Lucy, I purposely lamed myself."

"I don't believe that," Lucy insisted. "Not for one minute."

"It's true. When I served in the army, a seer told me Milah carried my child, and that I would die, leaving my son fatherless. I was so afraid. I couldn't stand the thought of not seeing my boy, so I took a heavy mallet and shattered my own ankle. Once I recovered, I hobbled home as fast as I could. When I saw Milah standing there holding Bae - " A brief, tender smile lit his face; his voice softened when he spoke his son's name. Abruptly, he stood up, walking a few steps towards the fire. He leaned against the stones, trying to master his emotions before he faced Lucy. "I shamed her. She said she'd rather I died in battle than return a crippled coward." He expected her, too, to turn away in disgust, at his confession.

"That stupid cow!" she burst aloud as she stood from the table quivering with fury. "I can't even begin to hate her enough for what she's done to you!"

Rumple stared at his sister-in-law in utter disbelief. "Didn't you hear what I said? I made her the laughing stock of the village. She had a right to leave me if -"

" And what about her vows, the ones she made before God when the two of you wed? For better, for worse? In sickness and in health? What about those, Rumple?" she shot back. "And what excuse did she have for leaving her child? Hmm? Tell me that!"

"I made her life unbearable. You can't defend my actions by condemning her."

"Oh, yes, I can, and I will! Right or wrong, you did what you thought best to protect your unborn son. Tell me, Rumple, did she even consider the boy?"

He had no answer to that, so he dropped his head. Lucy walked to him, and taking his hands in hers, led him back to the table. "Rumple, we could," she stopped and wet her lips. Long she stared at her hands, gathering her courage. What she had to say was hard for her. "Could we, you and I, make a family? Bae needs a mother, and I could - if you'd allow, I could be your - "

He interrupted her. "Lucy," he said gently, squeezing her hands, "we can't. I'm still married Milah."

"But everyone thinks she's dead -"

"And when she comes back? Then what?" He released her hand, cupping her cheek. "No, I'll find you someone, dear Lucy. I promised you seven long years ago that I would find you a husband that you could love. I'll find you a good man, one who will give you a home and children. Maybe not one so grand as I found for Gerta, but a good man nonetheless. I may have failed Milah, but I will not fail you. In fact, there is a young farmer named Peter Cucurbita, who is in need of a wife. I'll speak with him now." Then he stood abruptly and left the cottage.

"Oh, Rumple, it's you I love you," she whispered to the closed door. The tears ran freely down her face. "I always have. I always will."


	6. Chapter 6

I do not own Once Upon A Time. Reviews are requested.

**CHAPTER 6**

**STORYBROOKE The Sheriff's Office**

Defense attorney Cucurbita continued hammering away at her theory. "That's why, despite your money and good looks, you've never chosen to love another. That stupid cow chose him, didn't she?"

Hurt, pain, and despair washed across his face to be replaced by growing rage. She may not have all of the details correct, but she was close, and she was goading him. Suddenly, her voice rang out, "What happened to her, Mr. Gold? Did she die?"

"Yes," he bolted up from the table, knocking his tea glass over. His calm was shattered ; he clutched the imperfect cup to his heart and shouted. "She killed herself!"

His eyes gleamed with near madness, but hers softened with heartbreak and a soul-deep empathy she could not yet understand. "I'm sorry," she apologized quietly. "I am so, so sorry." Linda stretched out her hand and righted the glass, mopping up the spilled tea with the extra napkins.

Like a kicked puppy, he sank back down into his seat still cradling the cup. His head was bowed in defeat, his hair hanging limply. There were no sobs or tears, but the grief wracking his thin shoulders was unmistakable just the same.

Linda let him take all the time he needed until he could master his pain. "Alright," Linda spoke softly, "I'll talk to French and his lawyer- " at his jerk of alarm, she amended, "I won't say anything about her." He nodded and swallowed, wetting his lips as well. "One: French broke into your home out of revenge for his loss during a business deal," she ticked her statements off with her fingers. "Two: He stole many of your most valuable possessions. Three: He sold at least one of those priceless treasures to recoup his losses," she pointed to the cup. "Four: He later broke into your cabin with the intent to attack you personally -"

Gold raised his eyebrow and cocked his head. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. "That's pure fabrication. It was the other way around," he paused and smiled grimly, "or so it was reported."

Linda knew she was suggesting a lie, covering up for him. It was wrong - a crime. She didn't know why she felt this compulsion. But she knew without any hesitation that she had to do this, had to protect him, even from himself. This wasn't the way she handled her job. Never had she done anything like this before. But aomething unnamable surged within, filling her with the need to protect this man at all costs. She shook her head slightly and shrugged. "Is there anyone who could corroborate French's version of the story?"

"David Nolan saw me buying duct tape and rope."

A rueful but impish smile settled on her soft, pink lips. "So? It was Valentine's Day, and you were headed up to your cabin for a kinky romp," she offered. _Heaven help me_, she thought. _What am I doing?_ Gold grinned rakishly but didn't interrupt her foray into fiction. "Did anyone actually see you kidnap French?"

When he shook his head, she continued, "So, it's just his word against yours, right?" _He's been so mistreated; I have to take care of him_.

"Hmph," he snorted. "And how do we explain the fact that Sheriff Swan saw me beating him with my cane while he lay trussed up on my floor?"

She winced at that. "Apparently, you got the best of your assailant and tied him up to await the police."

"And how was I, poor cripple that I am, supposed to have gotten the better of a big fellow like Moe French?" he asked.

She smiled. "You weren't alone, remember? Your kinky lady friend helped you tie him up, then she left and called the police. French was teasing you about your long, lost love and threatening to expose your new girlfriend. That's when you lost your temper and attacked." _Why am I lying for him? _ "A crime of passion," she said. "And," she hesitated and wet her lips. She stared at her hands, gathering her courage to her breast, before adding. "I'll even pose as your kinky girlfriend if Spencer balks."

All traces of emotion drained from his face, and Gold stared at the woman before him. Yes, he remember those times she had been brave, all of the times, she had cared for him. He even remembered her offer to marry him in order to help him raise Bae. "What will it cost me?" he asked her. "What's the price for your defensive fiction?"

_Your love_, she wanted to answer. Why these words popped into her mind, she didn't know. For a moment she feared irrationally that he could read the truth in her eyes, and she was appalled at the thought. At least she didn't say them aloud. "Nothing, Mr. Gold, I'm the public defender." She began cleaning up the remains of his meal to cover her embarrassment.

"As much as I appreciate it, there must be more to it than a simple 'Thank you, Miss Public Defender.' You're going well beyond the call of duty here," he told her. "You're even wading deep into the murky waters of perjury for my sake."

"There's nothing - " she began, but he cut her off.

"Just for argument's sake," he urged, "let's say I could give you anything you wanted, anything at all. My freedom is certainly worth it to me. You don't have to say it aloud. Just think it. What do you desire most in the world?"

The intensity of those deep brown eyes fascinated and frightened her. They mesmerized her like a cobra hypnotizes a bird. Those eyes of his compelled her to answer, honestly and truthfully, if not completely. "I only want the man I love." she whispered. "I want to take care of his home and have his child. That is more than enough for me."

"It's a deal," he smiled.

**Two Weeks Later - In the Enchanted Forest.**

A yawning Bae found his father sitting alone by the fire, a strange look on his face. But when he noticed his tiny son, he smiled and motioned the boy over. "Good morning, son," he smoothed the boy's hair and settled him at the table. "I'll have your breakfast in a moment." Hurrying as best as he was able, Rumplestiltskin ladled the boy's porridge into his bowl, gave him his spoon, and urged him to eat.

"Where's Auntie?" the child asked as he swallowed a mouthful.

Bae's papa answered with a forced laugh. "Ah, I have good news to tell you, Bae. I brokered a marriage deal for her and Peter Cucurbita, the farmer - oh, but we must remember to call him Uncle Peter now."

When Bae's bottom lip trembled and his eyes watered with tears, Rumple sat down at the table next to him. His voice was soft as he tried to explain to the boy. "Oh, Bae, we can't be selfish and keep her all to ourselves. It was her decision, too. All she ever wanted was a husband she loved and a child to raise." He wet his lips and turned away. "Perhaps she'll have a chance for that now.


	7. Chapter 7

Once Upon A Time doesn't belong to me. sigh

**CHAPTER 7**

**A small town near the Enchanted Forest- Seven years later **

Baelfire was sitting at the table reading. He was captivated by the story of a gallant knight on a quest to slay a fearsome dragon when a knock at the door jolted him back to reality. Frowning, he closed the book, carefully marking his place with the golden bookmark his father, the Dark One, had given him. His da had made it clear and plain to him never to open the door to strangers - well, to anyone, really - while he was away on business. Baelfire peeked warily through the window.

Standing, shivering in the gusty autumn breeze stood a small woman. Her dingy, mustard colored cloak was threadbare. Wind reddened hands clutched the ragged edges of the cloak together. Deciding that this pitiful creature, could offer him little danger, Bae opened the door and stood back.

Quietly, the sad being entered the dwelling, removed her tattered, once-upon-a-time yellow cloak, and hung it on a familiar peg by the door. Then, she engulfed him in a grand hug.

Bae stiffed at the embrace of this stranger. He frowned at her when she stepped back, smiling at him. "I don't know you," he told her.

Her smile never faltered, though, and her hands remained holding his arms. "Nevertheless, I know you. I am your aunt Lucy, your mother's, sister. Where is your father?"

Bae's frown deepened. "Father's not here, and I don't think you really want to see him. No one comes to see him." Bae shrugged elaborately. "It's complicated," Bae muttered, but would say no more.

Bae darted a glance towards the book at the table, and Lucy cleared her throat. "Well, why don't you finish your book? I know Rumple always valued learning. I'll tidy myself and then see to the evening meal."

With an odd glance at this woman, who claimed to be his aunt, Bae returned to the table and his book while Lucy washed her face and tidied her hair. Then she moved deliberately to the hearth as if she'd always been there.

That frozen tableau - Bae at the table reading and a blonde woman stirring a kettle at the hearth where a savory lamb stew bubbled - is what the Dark One found when he returned just after dark. Reptilian eyes narrowed in suspicion as he moved stealthily forward, setting himself between his darling boy and this suspicious newcomer. "Bae," his voice was dangerously soft sing-song, "who's your guest?"

Anxiety crossed the boy's clear features, and he hoped for the woman's sake that she hadn't lied about her identity. Before he could reply, though, she had turned to face them, and her eyes widened in shock. "Rumple!" she gasped. "What has happened to you?" The woman, who called herself his aunt Lucy, rushed forward and grasped the Dark One by his hands. "Rumple?" she cried, "It is you, isn't it?"

He removed her hands from her grasp. "Oh, I have another name, now, dearie," he purred menacingly. "These days I'm called the Dark One." His voice was like the hiss of burning flesh on coals. "And who might you be? And why have you dared enter my home without my permission? Hmm?"

Warily, Bae closed his book, set it down, and stood, making his way gingerly around the table. If his papa decided to attack this poor woman, he wanted to stop it.

"So, it's true then, about your becoming the Dark One," her hard eyes flickered up and down, taking in every detail of his appearance. Amazingly, she showed neither horror of him nor fear. Then, her eyes softened. She could never fear him; she would always love him. "Rumple, you silly man," she told him, then added with bitter humor. "I know I've changed in the seven years since I left with Peter, but not so much as you have, I dare say."

The Dark One tilted his head to the right, evaluating the small woman before him. "What? Lucy?" he questioned. "Is it really you? After all this time?"

She nodded. "And you are the Dark One. Something truly terrible must have happened to force this on you," she stated boldly. "Like me, you only ever wanted a home and a family."

Rumple giggle at her unasked question. "Oh, this?" he asked in a nasal tone. Tossing his head and flourishing his hands, he flicked his fingers to indicate his changed self. "Just something I picked up to protect the boy."

Lucy narrowed her eyes as his words penetrated her brain. She didn't know the details, but she didn't have to know them. If he said he took on this curse to protect the boy, then he did. "My sister did not deserve you," she told him. Her words were soft, but her tone was angry. "No matter, now," she sighed. A deep breath later, she again took charge of the Dark One and his son. "Are you hungry? The stew is done, and I've baked some fresh bread for you. Rumple, Bae, sit and eat," Lucy ordered them gently. Setting a trencher in front of father and son, she quickly filled two mugs with cold milk and slathered several thick slices of bread with butter. Then, she sat across from them with her own small bowl and mug.

When the meal was finished and cleared away in a puff of purple smoke, Rumple turned to his wheel, amazing Lucy with the pure lengths of gold that fell away. "Off to bed with you now, Bae," the Dark One said. "I need to speak with your aunt, and you need to sleep."

No longer fearing that his papa would turn on the woman, Bae smiled and kissed his papa goodnight, heading upstairs to his loft bed. He hoped this lady would stay with them. Not only could she cook the most delicious stew and melt-in-your-mouth bread, but apparently she could also handle his papa like an expert.

**STORYBROOKE The Sheriff's Office**

Public Defender Cucurbita smiled at him as if he were a child, but she took his hand and shook it. "Yes, it's a deal," she humored him.

"I suppose you should lock me back inside," he told her. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the cell.

"Yes, I suppose so," she agreed. Linda found the keys on Sheriff Swan's desk and joined Mr. Gold at the door of the cell.

He stepped inside and stood back allowing her to swing the barred door into place. "By the way, Ms. Cucurbita," he inquired off-handedly, "do you have a favorite fairy tale?"

Linda paused holding the key just shy of the lock. She frowned at him. "What are you talking about? Fairy tales?" she asked. "I don't understand what you're getting at."

"It's just a harmless question, dear. Which tale catches your fancy?" he told her.

She was at a complete loss as to how to answer him, and she turned the key slowly in the lock. "I'm not much for fairy tales. I prefer short stories like "The Necklace," she answered him.

Gold frowned. "I'm not familiar with that one, my dear. What's it about?"

"It's about a foolish woman who can't see the true value of the things she has," Linda told him. "I like it because it's so like real life. So many people choose the flashy things and people." She snorted. "You know," she told him, "just because something glitters doesn't mean it's gold."


	8. Chapter 8

Nope, I still don't own Once Upon ATime, but I do have one awesome case of the flu.

CHAPTER 8

The Enchanted Forest

But the next morning when Bae clambered down from his loft bed, he saw his papa arguing with a thick set man in farmer's clothing. His aunt Lucy stood facing the fire with her head bowed in defeat. Bae stood quietly in the corner witnessing it all.

The red faced man was clearly angry, but not so enraged that he forgot to whom he was speaking. "We had a deal, Dark One. You agreed to help me find and keep my wife if I supplied you with information concerning a certain pirate. Now, I've done my part, and it's your turn to keep your end of the bargain."

"Yes, yes, yes, but I thought she had been kidnapped. I didn't realize she ran away from you - " He leaned forward menacingly, his golden eyes burning with anger. " - because you were beating her"

His face open with curiosity, Bae questioned aloud, "Papa?"

The Dark One's evil grin faded into an enigmatic smile, which he bestowed on his son. "Oh, Bae, there you are. We -" he indicated Peter, Lucy, and himself - "were just having a family discussion."

"I don't want her to go." Bae really liked his aunt. "Can't you make her stay?" he asked. "You're the Dark One. Make a deal with him, so she can stay."

The Dark One pursed his lips far out as if he tasted something very bitter. "I can't, Bae," he told him. "It's not that simple."

"What's the point of being a powerful sorcerer if you can't make her stay?" was his anguished question.

"Bae, you're becoming quite the cynic." He waggled a talon tipped finger at this boy. However, before Bae could explode - he had much of Milah's temper - he smiled and explained. "Uncle Peter - " He spat the name. "- and Aunt Lucy are married. They made vows before God. I have no power to undo them," he admitted. "And," he continued looking about at Lucy with a twisted sort of smile, "I have to keep my deal and help Peter _keep_ his wife." A wicked merriment played across the Dark One's face and he laughed aloud.

The weird, high-pitched giggle chilled Peter, but Lucy smiled. She trusted Rumple implicitly and knew if there were any help for her at all, he would find it.

"Here," the Dark One handed Peter a small pumpkin. "Put this on her head and order her as her husband to stay put."

"A pumpkin?" questioned Peter skeptically. "Why, I have a field full of these at home."

"Do youwant the help or not, dearie?" the Dark One asked, eyes gleaming with devilment.

Peter knew he had pushed too far, so he placed the pumpkin on this wife's head and ordered her to stay put. Immediately, she was sucked up and into the pumpkin while the Dark One broke out into a long series of high-pitched giggles at the impotent rage on Peter's face.

Bae's youthful voice piped up in horrified awe. "You put her in a pumpkin shell."

"You said," Peter sputtered, "that this would help me to keep her!"

"And, so it does, dearie," he responded. "Go head, take her home. She's all yours." He made shooing motions with his hands and cackled with delight.

"You cheated me!" Peter bellowed unwisely. "We had a deal, Dark One, and you altered the deal."

The Dark One leaned into Peter's face, spittle flying as he hissed ominously. "Then, pray I don't alter it further." Peter went corpse white, and he flew from the house, leaving the pumpkin. The door banged against the wall as he fled.

"What? Changed your mind, did you, dearie? Don't want her anymore?" The Dark One shouted into the morning. "No matter. I'll keep her for myself." Closing the door, he turned to face an angry Baelfire.

"You killed her!" he accused his papa. "You made Peter turn her into a pumpkin!"

"No, Bae," he spoke gently to the boy. "Your aunt Lucy isn't dead." He picked up the pumpkin and showed Bae. "She's just in a suspended form. She'll be right again as soon as she's awakened from her curse."

"Awaken her then!" the boy commanded.

A grimace pulled at the corners of his mouth. "It isn't that simple. I don't have a way to do that just yet, but I'll find a way. I promise." The Dark One carefully placed the pumpkin containing his sister-in-law into the back of a cupboard.

**Later STORYBROOKE**

It was a blessing for many. For others, though, it was bad when Emma Swan broke the curse in Storybrooke. As the spell broke and waves of magic washed over her, Attorney Linda Cucurbita - No, Lucy - remembered herself. She remembered, too, Rumplestiltskin, the Dark One, and she remembered the fact that she loved him desperately.

She also remembered all those things that had happened to him in the past three hundred years. She remembered them because she was there. No, she wasn't immortal like he, but because she had been encased in the magical pumpkin, she had been cognizant of all that happened around her. And, like all manner of things enchanted, she had not aged.

Oh, what the poor man had been through! What a terrible toll those dark years had taken on the tender, gentle spinner. Once he lost Bae, Rumple's mind began to fray. In his obsession to find his son, he had forgotten about his search to free her from her abusive husband's cursed pumpkin shell. She was just another knick-knack in the dark castle. But she was conscious and heard everything that went on around her, for the Dark One often talked aloud to himself.

Then there was his needy love for Cora. Cora! Lucy could see right through her from the start. Another selfish cow just like Milah! Why they even looked alike with their long legs, fair face, perfect smile, and shining brown hair! And like Milah, she had used the poor, lonely man to get what she wanted - power, money, prestige. And, the poor dear, so lonely, so lost, so needy had fallen for her. With her betrayal, Rumplestiltskin's mind slipped further into madness, and her heart broke afresh every day because she could do nothing to ease his pain.

And, then there was the one bright light in his darkness, Belle. Lucy knew even before either of them that he and Belle were falling in love. She watched it happen right in front of her envious eyes. The knowledge had cast her to both the heights of glory to know that he had found True Love at last, and it threw her into a pit a selfish despair for she knew her Rumplestiltskin would never love her.

She listened with grieving heart as Regina told him of Belle's suicide. That was when Rumple truly became the Dark One. Nothing and no one mattered to him then. Nothing and no one could get in his way. His single-minded mania to find Bae drove him relentlessly and whipped him into a frothing madness. From her pumpkin palace inside the cabinet, she could only watch and pray that when the grand curse came, it would wipe away his bitter insanity along with his sour memories.

Yes, when the curse broke, Attorney Lucy Cucurbita wept with joy and sorrow. In this world of women's rights, she could live freely without fear of being forced to marry a man she didn't love. She might never share Rumple's name, but she was damned if she'd keep Peter's, so she officially changed her name to Ms. Lucy Farmer.


	9. Chapter 9

OUAT = no Flu = YES

And, no this entire story has not been beta-read. Any mistakes are entirely my own. Reviews are desired.

CHAPTER 9

STORYBROOKE, Maine

Business was booming. Neither she nor Albert King George Spencer could keep up with all of the 'Enchanted Forest' cases that started popping up. It was bad enough when Sheriff Emma Swan broke the curse in Storybrooke. Seemingly contented townspeople ran amuck, seeking their _before_ families and not those supplied by Regina's curse. But when Mr. Rumplestiltskin-The Dark One-Gold brought magic to a world without magic, all hell broke loose. Some citizens realized they had been were Magical Animals while others knew they had been inanimate objects! Some were desperate to return to their former status, and some were terrified that they would.

Because Mr. Gold was the most powerful magician, Judge Wolfgang decided that it would be best if a 'diplomatic entourage' met with the Dark One at his home. "The legal community," Wolfgang said, "needs a means to addressing these new issues, and Gold is the best, well, the only, means of solving these problems."

There were so many legal cases popping up that he did have a valid point. And meeting with Gold at his home would definitely reduce the chances of a magical mushroom cloud meltdown if Gold should run into Mayor Mills at city hall. So, now Attorney Lucy Farmer was forced to see her beloved Rumplestiltskin at his home - the home he now shared with his beloved Belle.

The morning of their meeting dawned bright and beautiful with deep cobalt blue skies, but by nine AM, the temperature plummeted. It was beginning to snow when their little group arrived at Gold's large, pink Victorian. Judge B. B. Wolfgang had 'conveniently' called at the last minute to say something of importance had come up, but that he had faith that the three of them - his diplomatic party - could establish an understanding with Gold.

"Oh, I'm going to enjoy this," remarked Spencer as the trio walked towards the front door. No one took the bait, so he continued, "Kinky ex-girlfriend comes face to face with innocent new-girlfriend."

Lucy Farmer's face grew crimson red. David Nolan's turned snow white. Nolan turned and faced Spencer. "That's no way to talk about a lady, Spencer," he rebuked the has-been ruler.

"Yeah, but from what I hear, she's no lady," he grinned lasciviously and laughed. "Yes, sir," Spencer chuckled, climbing the steps toward the front door, "it seems the Dark One is some kind of sex machine."

"That's enough!" Nolan ordered. "Shut your mouth!"

Gritting her teeth, Lucy muttered darkly, "Just ring the damn bell before I ring your neck, Georgie." She sighed as he rang the bell, wondering if acting Sheriff Nolan and Albert Spencer would breakout into fisticuffs (and half-hoping they would) before they all froze to death on the porch.

The door opened and they were quickly ushered in by a lovely, petite, young woman. She wore a pale blue, cashmere sweater and a white wool skirt. "Oh, do come in," she smiled brightly at them.

Albert Spencer removed his hat, using it as an excuse to eye her up and down. Amusement oozed all over his face. He was clearly laughing at the older woman's discomfort, but Lucy refused to be intimidated by the smirking ass .

"I'm Belle," she told them in her soft, melodious voice. "Let me take your coats. He's expecting you through that door." She ushered them into the front parlor, where Mr. Gold sat before the fire.

"I'd say I was please to see the lot of you," Gold stated blandly, "but I'd be lying."

"Rumple, be good," Belle warned him. "Please have a seat. I'll get some hot tea," she spoke politely as she closed the door behind her.

**The Enchanted Forest**

"Arrgh!" The Dark One screamed in fury and threw the bottle against the wall. The glass shattered into a thousand pieces as the olive colored slimed oozed down the stones. "Another dead end," he lamented.

He grunted and threw himself angrily into a chair. After a few moments, he began to mutter to himself. "Oh, Bae, I'll find you again. If it takes forever, I'll find where that damnable fairy sent you."

With an extravagant wave of his hand, a large and musty tome flew from the shelves behind him and landed in front of him on the table. "It's here. I know it is. If a magic bean can open a portal to a land without magic, then surely my magic can get there as well." He began leafing through the book.

A scroll, quill, and ink pot joined their brother book on the table before the Dark One, and he studied over it, comparing the lore of the book with his own handwriting. There was a sudden intake of air into his lungs, and he froze. "That's it," he whispered. "I've found it, the missing piece of the puzzle."

With a high pitched burst of childlike glee, the imp bolted up from the chair, knocking it over onto the floor. He leapt atop the table and began a wild dance of happiness. "I've found it!" he crowed. "Bae, oh my dear boy, I've found the last piece for the curse to end all curses!"

**Storybrooke, Maine**

Mr. Gold set his empty teacup on the saucer. "I really don't care," he laughed. "If someone is concerned with his or her previous condition, he or she can seek an audience with Regina."

"But -" began Albert Spencer. A sharp look from Gold shut stopped him.

"But nothing," Gold insisted. "I didn't cast the curse, and I'll not answer for any problems cause by it." He reached for his cane and stood. "Besides," he nodded to Nolan, "I am currently far too busy looking for a way to bring home Mary Margaret and Sheriff Swan."

Nolan and Spencer stood, as well, realizing they had been summarily dismissed. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Gold," Nolan said. "And thank you for your efforts to find my wife and daughter." He reached out a hand, but Gold did not return the gesture.

Holding his cane with both hands, he smiled thinly. The smile did not extend to his whiskey colored eyes. "I'm sure you can both find your way out," he nodded towards the door. He watched them move surely towards the hall, where Belle had hung their coats.

Albert Spencer slid into his heavy overcoat, opened the door, and left quietly without another word. Having had dealings with the Dark One in the past, he knew better than to irritate the man further. Whatever he may call himself here and now, he was still a dangerous adversary, and Spencer had troubles enough.

Acting Sheriff David Nolan shrugged into this jacket and stuffed his hands deep into the pockets. "Thank you, anyway. I really do appreciate your help," his words were sincere and polite. With a nodded and a grim smile, he turned and left.

"Have they gone, Rumple?" Belle asked gently as he closed the door, keeping out the bitter wind.

"Yes, at last," he told her. A real smile softened his features and his eyes melted. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her tenderly.

"Actually, I'm still here, Rumple," Lucy softly reminded him.


	10. Chapter 10

I do not own Once Upon a TIme, but you know that...

Please review. It's been a looooong time since I was infected by the writting bug. I know my skillls are rusty.

This is the last planned chapter of this story. If you want more of this kind, you'll need to let me know. I've tried to flesh out Rumple's long background a bit more while not interfering with canon storyline.

**Chapter 10**

**Storybrooke, Maine**

Mr. Gold made a snorting, masculine noise when Belle blushed and jumped away from him. He turned towards his remaining visitor. "Lucy, I thought you left with the others."

She smiled thinly. "No, just overlooked as usual." Seeing the contriteness on his face, she softened her tone. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. I just - We still have our deal to settle."

A frown etched itself between his eyes. "A deal?" he murmured to himself. Then he smiled. "Oh, yes, I'm sorry, Lucy. There have been an incredible lot of deals in the past three hundred years, and - "

"Yes, I know," she interrupted him. "I was there for most of them, remember?"

"Perhaps I should leave you two to work this out," Belle offered. "Shall I bring more tea?"

"No, thank you," Lucy said, looking directly into Gold's eyes. "I don't want to put you out." Although the words answered Belle's question, they were an unspoken message to him.

"That would be best, dear," Gold told Belle. She smiled, kissed his cheek, and left them. He gestured once again to the sitting room, where the two of them reentered. This time, they were to negotiate a different understanding.

They both took their time to settle as comfortably as possible for what was, no doubt, going to be a long and miserable discussion. Inhaling deeply, Gold finally broke the mounting silence. "It seems I promised to find you a husband that you could love." He chanced a look at her. "Several times," he added. "The problem is that here in this land people don't make marriage deals like in the Enchanted Forest." Lucy looked at him steadily but did not interrupt. "But, I did promise, and I'll do my best," he smiled genuinely at her. "You were my sister-in-law." Her lack of response was beginning to unnerve him. "Is there someone you fancy?"

Lucy rolled her eyes and huffed out an exaggerated sigh. "How can you be so powerful a sorcerer, so shrewd business man, so fierce a contract lawyer, a once-upon-a-time husband and father, and the great and terrible Dark One," she paused to draw an irritated breath, "and still be so bloody stupid?"

Gold's eyebrows climbed his face, and his mouth dropped open in utter astonishment. Not since before he first took on the curse had anyone spoken to him like that. Never in the past three hundred years had anyone dared to talk back to him, let along call him stupid. Even Belle, at her pushiest moments back in the Dark Castle, had never spoken to him like that. He blinked twice. "I don't understand," he told her.

"That is the understatement of the millennium," she told him. "Cast your mind back long, long ago, back to when you were first courting Milah - "

"I'd rather not," he said curtly. Shifting uncomfortably on his sofa, he met her eyes.

But Lucy ignored his preference and forged ahead. "Do you remember who would meet you at the gate every time you came to call? Who would walk you back to the gate each time you left?" She paused for a moment.

"Of course, I remember. It was you, Lucy," he told her, "but -"

"But you never noticed me, Rumplestiltskin," she replied. "You never once noticed that I loved you, did you?"

An incredulous shock flooded his system. Her sudden revelation stunned him, but oh-so many puzzle pieces finally snapped into place. How could he have missed the signs? Quietly, he replied, "You were a child, Lucy. You couldn't have been more than twelve. I was thirty and far too old to be courting Milah, who was eighteen, much less - "

"I was fifteen, Rumple," she told him quickly. "And I loved you more than Milah ever could. I still love you, you stupid man."

Mr. Gold opened and closed his mouth twice, as the blood raced to his face. His reply made him sound like a complete blithering idiot. "I can't. I mean, I do love you, Lucy, but not like - There's Belle, now, and she - " He was so utterly undone by her words.

She smiled and shook her head. "I know, Rumple." Tenderly, she reached for his hands and held them between her own to stop them from shaking. "If only I'd had the courage to tell you then. Gerta and Milah knew how I felt. So did Papa." She looked down at his hands. "I did try to tell you once when I returned from serving Gerta's sentence. Do you remember? I tried to get you to marry me."

"I remember. I thought you were only concerned for the boy," he answered so softly she barely heard him. Tears welled in his eyes. "If I'd known then - "

"You wouldn't have done one thing differently," she supplied. "And, now, you and Belle are together."

"I don't know how to honor our deal," he whispered around the lump in his throat. "I can't give you a home and family with the man you love. My heart, scarred and tattered though it is, belongs to Belle."

"I know." Lucy leaned forward a cupped his face tenderly. "And I won't intrude. At least, I'll try not to," she laughed bitterly, "but I'd like to be a part of your family. I mean, Bae is still my nephew, and when you find him - "

He nodded. "Yes, you are family, now and always. And family is all important."

"I should go, then," she stood.

Mr. Gold rose to his feet with the aid of his cane. Silently, they exited the room, and he helped her slide into her yellow coat. When he carefully wound her scarf about her neck, she impulsively reached forward and caught his face between her hands. Before he could think, she kissed him fiercely.

Rumplestiltskin was astounded, and his mouth parted in surprise. Lucy deepened the kiss, pouring herself into his arms. Her kiss was full of passion, fire, and unfulfilled dreams, and it tasted of bitter-sweet tears.

When she let go, at last, he staggered back a step. A devilish smile was on her lips. She carefully wiped her lipstick from his mouth. "If you and Belle don't work out, call me. I still love you. I always have. I always will."

Before she could break down, Lucy jerked open the door and fled the house, leaving Mr. Gold standing in the cold.


End file.
